Keep Your Head Still, I'll Be Your Thrill
by mickeydubs
Summary: The transition into college is never easy. For Clarke, meeting Lexa makes it that much more complicated.
1. Chapter 1

Keep Your Head Still, I'll Be Your Thrill

Chapter 1: Watching, Waiting

Clarke was a girl who had never excelled at first impressions. She had a tendency to come on too strong. Or, on the rare occasion that she could reel herself in, she tended to be overly aware of coming on too strong and not participate in conversations at all. But it was something she was aware of. As long as she didn't let herself start rambling right off the bat, she'd be fine.

She knew the transition was going to be bumpy; of course it was. She was growing up, living on her own, more or less. Her roommate seemed like someone she'd get along with - a little overly committed to her carefree attitude, admittedly, but Clarke was happy to chalk that up to first-week nerves. Plus, the roommate's older brother was in a fraternity on campus, giving them free access to all the biggest parties, so any minor character flaws were relatively easy to overlook.

College orientation had been kind to her so far; she had met lots of nice people, and when she looked closely, she could tell that other people were nervous too. It really was like everyone said: they were all making this huge transition. It only made sense that there was a tiny layer of fear in the eyes of the other freshmen she was meeting. It was in her eyes too.

She figured she was slightly more on edge than most, though, because her ex was coming to the same school. She hadn't seen him around yet, which she was enormously grateful for, but she was anxious about seeing him for the first time since their breakup. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to get it over with or not.

It wasn't that she hated Finn or anything - their breakup had been a mutual agreement that going into this new stage of their lives with strings holding them back in that high school mindset would be a bad idea. But feelings don't disappear overnight, and they'd both said some things since the split that left the waters a little murky. They had been well matched, as far as high school relationships went. They were both liked by each other's parents and their friends had gotten well into the habit of commenting on how cute they were together. They both enjoyed the other's company, spent many nights pretending to study at the other's house, and won prom king and queen by a landslide.

They'd never said they were in love.

Clarke looked herself over in the mirror that hung on the back of her door and mentally praised Octavia for being the roommate to think to bring one. Her jeans were tight but faded over a pair of red converse high tops. She tugged at the ragged hem of her homemade crop top, a plain t-shirt she'd taken a pair scissors to when she'd spilled some coffee on herself in Finn's car a few months earlier. He never was good at avoiding potholes.

She sighed and pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail, the pink-dyed ends swaying breezily behind her neck. She wasn't ever one to try too hard when she went out.

Clarke jumped when the door suddenly swung open to reveal Octavia sporting a devilish grin and a bottle of cheap rosé in each hand. She sauntered over to the desk on her side of the room and pulled a corkscrew out of one of the drawers, popping the first bottle with ease. She took a swig, then handed it off to Clarke so she could open the second.

"Let's get this party started."

...

The bass that bumped from the frat house reached them from about a block away. The school had bought and renovated a whole street of old victorian style houses that were then taken over by the school's greek system. There was an entire crowd of people already drunkenly stumbling around the lawn when they reached it and strode with a certain level of alcohol-induced confidence up to the front door. Two boys who were most definitely pledges acted as bouncers. One was lanky, his eyes bulging a bit when he saw the two girls approaching. He leaned an elbow on his friend's shoulder, slumping both of them against the doorframe when neither could keep their balance.

"Evening ladies, admission costs one kiss," the tall one slurred, slinging his arm around his friend's shoulders with a conspiratorial smirk.

Clarke and Octavia shot each other a look. The shorter boy noted the silent exchange and pushed the taller away, sending him knocking into the other side of the doorframe with a startled but amused expression. "Shut up, Jasper, no one's... wants to pay that fee." He giggled at himself for a minute, sensing his inability to properly articulate. He turned to one side, all but curtsied, and waved the two girls inside. "You may enter."

Her mouth still hanging slightly open, Clarke followed Octavia's lead, pushing past the two into the house with incredulity saturating her face. She was not drunk enough for this yet.

Bodies were packed into the house's entryway. Entering the building was like stepping into another reality. Or the interior of the world's largest oven. The lights were mostly off; the main source of light was the flashing of strobe light apps from the phones of guys perched on their tippy toes on the backs of the couches that lined the walls. The body heat was instantly overwhelming.

Clarke and Octavia made a beeline for the upperclassman dispensing beers from a keg under the stairs as soon as they were inside. They forced their way through the crowd, dim light obscuring their vision just enough to disguise whatever stickiness was trying to grab ahold of their shoes along the way. Clarke silently prayed it was just beer.

With red solo cups firmly in hand, the two surveyed their surroundings with vague apprehension. Octavia's eyes flicked rapidly over the faces around the room, searching for her brother; Clarke stuck close to her side, clinging to the one person in the room she knew. The wine that she'd had earlier was hitting her, but she was still aware of herself enough to be nervous talking to new people.

"Have you spotted Bellamy yet?"

Octavia shook her head, continuing to scan the crowd. Clarke spluttered, nearly choking on her beer when Octavia slapped a hand on her shoulder. "Even better." She pointed across the room to a tall, muscular guy with a shaved head and tattoos up his arm. "That's Lincoln. He's one of my brother's frat brothers. I'm going to go talk to him."

Clarke opened her mouth to object but before she could get a word out, Octavia was off. Clarke watched her go, slack jawed and unsure of what to do with herself.

She downed her beer and made her way into the next room where the music was louder. The speakers in the corner were gargantuan, and she could feel her bones vibrating under her skin with every beat of the Blink-182 song blaring throughout the house.

She stopped in her tracks the moment she crossed into the room.

Finn.

He was posted up against the wall directly opposite her, leaning confidently with his hand by the head of a girl who seemed more interested in her drink than whatever he was saying to her. There was no denying that the girl was pretty. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders in unfairly smooth-looking waves, and her face looked like one you'd find on the cover of a magazine.

Clarke felt her chest tighten. Alcohol thrummed in her veins as she chugged the remainder of her beer, and her feet began a march in the direction of the two without her realizing what she was doing. Her brain felt fuzzy inside her skull. Her shoulders bumped nearly every person she passed, and she held up her hands in apology only to wind up accidentally smacking someone's drink out of their hand. Her eyes couldn't focus on anything except her ex and the girl he was making a strong effort to chat up.

Her face was hot. Her hands were in fists; she wondered briefly where her cup had gone before remembering that she hurled her cup on the ground when the last of her beer had dribbled into and around her mouth.

When, after what felt like several minutes, she reached Finn and his companion, the girl was turning to walk away. Clarke heard her say something about "going to get another drink." Her eyelids were hooded with inebriation, but her intent to exit the conversation with Finn was clear.

Clarke, hands firmly on her hips, walked right up into their space, partially blocking the girl's way. She felt herself swaying slightly and steadied herself with a couple staggered steps. The two finally noticed her presence and faced her expectantly.

Clarke opened her mouth and the words "I wanna talk to you" tumbled out from between her lips. Finn blinked at her, taken aback.

The girl, noticeably (even to Clarke's drunken eyes) unbalanced, grabbed her shoulders. Clarke stilled in surprise. The girl's words were slurred but still understandable when she uttered, "Talking's overrated," and immediately leaned in.

Clarke, unable to hold the both of them up, fell a step backward and the girl's lips landed sloppily on her chin. Unable to steady herself, the girl's momentum carried her to the ground. The crowd around them clapped rowdily as someone yelled "Party foul!"

Clarke looked on, wide-eyed and dumbfounded as the girl got back to her feet with extra caution, chuckling at herself the whole time. Without another word, she was off in the direction of the makeshift bar in the other room.

Speechless, Clarke watched her go. It struck her then that maybe talking to Finn tonight wasn't the best idea. Without another word or a glance back, she tripped her way back through the mess of people toward the front door.

...

When Clarke woke the next morning, it was with a somersaulting stomach and a jackhammer in her skull. Memories of the night before flooded her mind and she groaned, mentally kicking herself for drinking so much and the situation she almost got herself into with Finn.

She rolled over and reluctantly checked the time on her phone. Her alarm was set to go off in exactly two minutes. She quickly unlocked her phone and turned the alarm off, knowing the pain her head would be in if she had to listen to the harsh beeping of her wake up call.

She let herself lie in self pity for another thirty seconds before she forced herself to rise and face the day. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As an afterthought, she slipped a flannel on over her shoulders.

Slow-moving because of her hangover, she didn't have time to stop in the dining hall before her first class, which was a freshman philosophy seminar that she had no real interest in. She arrived with the crowd and ushered into the most innocuous seat she could find near the middle of the room.

The professor entered a couple of minutes after the rush of students. He placed his bag off to the side against a small podium and took up stance in front of the blackboard.

Clarke shrugged off her flannel, hunkered down and sucked at her water bottle, willing the class to go by quickly.

Just as the professor was beginning to introduce himself to the class, the door opened again as a latecomer trudged in. A girl who was clearly at least as hungover as Clarke was paused at the front of the classroom, looking for a seat. Clarke couldn't stop herself from smirking. _Damn, her night must've been_ rough _, and that's coming from me._

The girl was still wearing pajamas and a pair of sunglasses despite being indoors, and she had a serious case of bedhead. She moved toward the empty seat in front of Clarke, sipping from a to-go coffee cup in the largest size the student center offered. As she got closer, Clarke raised an eyebrow. _Still, she's kind of hot._

The professor, making no effort to mask his annoyance at the interruption, called the girl out on her sunglasses. Clarke could practically sense the girl rolling her eyes behind the shades. She pulled the sunglasses off her face and tossed them onto the desk that she then dropped into.

Clarke froze for a moment in her chair.

It was the girl from last night. The one Finn was talking to.

The one who fell on the floor after she tried to kiss Clarke.

With everyone securely in a desk, the professor resumed his monotonous prattle about himself and what the class would be like. Clarke lost focus almost immediately.

She found herself staring at the back of the girl's head in front of her. They were seated close enough together that if Clarke leaned forward just a bit, she'd be able to smell the girl's hair. She started to inch forward, then stopped herself. That would be creepy.

The girl reached behind her head and flipped her hair over the back of her chair, granting Clarke a whiff anyway. It was a surprisingly nice scent. Clarke had been sure the girl would still have a leftover booze stench clinging to her given her appearance that morning.

For a moment Clarke questioned why she was even thinking about what the girl smelled like. _No, you know what, this is normal. She can't try to kiss you and then not expect you to be curious about her. That's all there is to this._

The professor droned on for another couple of minutes, going over each bullet point on the syllabus, before the girl pulled a laptop and a pair of earbuds out of her backpack. Clarke watched in awe as she signed into Netflix and blatantly checked all the way out of the lecture. She had to be insane. It was only the first day, did she really not care about making a bad first impression on the professor?

 _What is she even watching? Who is this girl?_

When at last the lecture ended, Clarke heaved a relieved sigh and stood. She bent down to pick up her flannel, which had slipped onto the floor; just as she straightened back up, the girl in front of her turned to collect her own things. They locked eyes and froze simultaneously.

Clarke swallowed, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she could speak.

"Hi."

The girl blinked once, eyes wide as an owl's.

"Shit."


	2. Chapter 2

Keep Your Head Still, I'll Be Your Thrill

Chapter 2: Commiserating

The other students, and their professor, filed out of the classroom, most not giving the two girls who remained frozen by their desks even a passing glance.

After a beat of shocked silence, Clarke managed to close her mouth and shake herself from her stupor. Time had seemed to stop briefly when the two made eye contact.

Clarke did her best to ignore the blush she could feel creeping into her cheeks. She lifted her flannel to her waist and tied it deftly before she extended a hand to the girl before her, whose jaw appeared fused in the open position.

"I'm Clarke. I take it you remember meeting me last night," she joked in an attempt to save face and keep some semblance of cool. The girl slowly reached out her own hand, eyes wide, and accepted Clarke's proffered shake. Her body flooded with heat as the girl continued to stare. Their joined hands moved steadily up and down in silence for a moment. "And your name is…"

The girl blinked as her cheeks reddened. She shook her head at herself and pushed her hair back with the hand that wasn't still grasping Clarke's. "Sorry, um, I'm just trying to think of any explanation for me trying to kiss you and then puking on your shoes that isn't just me being a girl who's never had a drink before getting to college and not having any concept of what my limits are." Her eyes dropped back to her feet in embarrassment even as she chuckled softly at herself.

Clarke's lips pulled back in an amused grin. "Don't worry, it happens to the best of us. Anyway, you didn't puke on my shoes, so you're good on that front at least."

The girl let out a sigh that seemed to occupy her whole body. "Someone else I owe an apology to then." She finally dropped the handshake. "I'm Lexa." She hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder and gave a half smile. "Sorry again."

Clarke watched as Lexa turned to go. Before she knew what she was doing, she yanked her own backpack into place and jogged after her. "Hey listen," she dropped a hand on Lexa's shoulder as the girl was about to pull her headphones from around her neck back up to her ears. She halted and faced Clarke expectantly.

Clarke licked her lips, which suddenly felt a little dry. She didn't know why, but something inside her urged her to get to know this girl better. "I told my roommate I would meet up with her for lunch after class, any chance you want to join?"

Lexa held Clarke's gaze for a few seconds before her eyes dipped temporarily to the floor and one corner of her mouth quirked up in another slightly lopsided smirk. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

…

Clarke and Lexa were both laughing hysterically by the time they neared the end of their ten minute walk from the building that housed their seminar to the dining hall. In an attempt to alleviate some of Lexa's embarrassment, Clarke recounted the story of her own first drunk vomiting incident; the tale began with her and her friend Wells sneaking a bottle of tequila from her parents' liquor cabinet and ended with the two of them slumped on a swing set at their town's community park, lifting their toes at the apex of their lazy oscillations to avoid puddles of their own puke.

Clarke spotted Octavia standing outside the dining hall, focus concentrated on her phone, and called out to her. "Who you texting there? Wouldn't happen to be a rugged, tattooed frat brother would it?"

Octavia lifted a middle finger, her eyes only following suit after she finished a text with her other hand. When she did look up, her mouth and brow both drooped into a confused frown. Clarke took note of it, but decided against addressing it in favor of introductions. "Octavia, this is Lexa. She's in that philosophy class with me. Lexa, Octavia."

Octavia's lips pursed. Lexa bobbed her head politely and offered a simple, "Hey."

Octavia crossed her arms as she gave Lexa a conspicuous once-over. "Cool, cool, cool. Hey. Say, Lexa, is it? Random question: you wouldn't happen to have puked on anyone's shoes recently would you?" Her eyebrows raised indignantly as she watched Lexa's face fall into an expression of realization then horror.

Lexa's mouth hung open for the second time that day as an uncomfortable silence stretched out between the three of them.

Clarke's head swiveled back and forth as if she were at a tennis match glancing back and forth between her and Octavia, who glowered at Lexa with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Shit," she whispered to herself. This was not how she had hoped this would go. "So!" Clarke started, desperate to diffuse the situation, "Um, who's hungry? I'm starving. You? Let's eat." She marched toward the doors, checking over her shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure both of her new friends were following.

The three entered the dining hall together, one glaring, one staring very intently straight ahead, and one attempting to alleviate the tension.

Lunch proceeded as an awkward affair. Clarke tried her best to start conversations, but every time she stopped talking and left the air open for one of the other two to speak, she was barraged with the sound of Lexa apologizing and Octavia responding with snide comebacks.

"I'm so sorry about your shoes."

"You know someone already posted on yik yak about me for putting sneakers in the washing machine and keeping them awake? They were not very forgiving."

"I'll write back to them and tell them it wasn't your fault."

"It's an anonymous app, it won't make a difference."

The conversation lulled briefly as the three of them pushed food around their plates, occasionally stabbing a morsel with a fork and eating it uncomfortably. Clarke watched Lexa's eyes dart back and forth between her plate and Octavia.

Lexa swallowed forcefully and spoke again. "I can buy you a new pair if you want, really."

"Honestly, I'm just impressed you're even functioning this soon after that display last night."

"Okay!" Clarke interjected before things went any further downhill. "A month from now we'll all be laughing about this I'm sure."

Lexa and Octavia both swiveled their heads, each flashing her their own looks of incredulity. Clarke bit her tongue when the two rolled their eyes at her in sync.

When she pointed it out, Lexa and Octavia made cautious eye contact before locking their eyes on their individual plates.

She chuckled and popped a blueberry into her mouth, thinking to herself that this was surely the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

…

Alone in her dorm room, Clarke lounged on her bed, one leg dangling off the side of the too-narrow extra long twin. Sunlight spilled through the window over her shoulder, casting a dusty glare over the screen of her phone, which she was using to scroll through old facebook photos from high school. The only sound in the room was the soft tapping of her thumb on her phone's screen as she dragged her feed further into the past.

She sighed at the sight of her own, slightly younger, smiling face gazing back at her.

She hated herself for letting nostalgia get to her.

College was going to be better than high school, that much she knew without a doubt, but she couldn't help looking at the self she embodied a year earlier and wishing, just a little bit, for things to be as simple and easy as they were back then. School had been a breeze. She had had the same circle of friends since she was in kindergarten. That's the same friend group since she was five years old! And whether or not those friends had stuck by her because they had known her for so long more than because they really had much in common or valued each other's personality traits, when she was in high school, Clarke never had to worry about who she would sit with at lunch or if she would have plans on the weekends.

She had been with Finn, and even though it was clear that she wanted different things than he did and had only really agreed to date him because it was what had made sense regarding her social life, she couldn't deny that there had been a certain comfort in having a romantic life that more or less took care of itself.

She exhaled heavily through her nose and clicked out of her own page back to the facebook homepage. Lexa, whom she had added as a friend immediately after their tension-filled lunch with Octavia and immediately before inviting them to have some reconciliation glasses of wine, appeared at the top of her newsfeed, having just added Octavia as a friend as well. She grinned to herself, feeling extremely self-satisfied at having facilitated that friendship's formation.

A sharp knock at her door startled Clarke into an upright position. Her heart pounded suddenly in her chest. For some reason she had a feeling that it was Lexa at the door, and she couldn't explain it, but Clarke felt wholly unprepared to have Lexa in her room at that moment. The back of her neck felt strangely hot. She had just been sitting in front of a sunny window, after all.

Another knock jolted her to her feet, and she glanced frantically around in case there was anything that needed straightening away. One look at her room reminded her that she was a complete slob and literally everything needed straightening away, and then she shook her head at herself for even having that impulse. She'd never been one to clean up for guests to a greater degree than moving the dirty clothes that normally lived all over her floor in the direction of her hamper.

Clarke called out, "I'm coming!" as a third knock came at the door, the raps on the wood growing resigned. She licked her lips as she leapt over the pile of books that stood between her and the door. Part of her mind registered that they were chapped, and she licked them again.

She yanked the door open, an apology ready on her tongue, but when she saw the face on the other side of the threshold, all that fell from her mouth was a quiet "oh."

Finn stood across from her, his hands held behind his back and the color in his face washed out by the fluorescent lights in the dorm's hallway. "Hi."

Clarke blinked forcefully, stunned by his presence. "Um," she swallowed, "uh, what are you doing here?"

Finn's eyes lit up, appearing surprised that he had been given an opportunity to explain himself. He bounced once on the balls of his feet, then launched into an explanation with a disproportional amount of enthusiasm for the greeting he'd just received.

"Okay, so, I know I'm totally just showing up out of the blue here, but I just want to say that even though we broke up over the summer, I miss you a lot and, you know, this is a crazy time of change in our lives and um, you're really great and we were like, so good together and I've been thinking, you know, why shouldn't we make this transition into college together?" He paused to take a long breath in after expelling all of those words in one long exhalation. "So anyway, I hope you'll consider taking me back."

He finished speaking with a nod that sent his hair flopping over his eyes momentarily. He flashed a dopey grin and brought his hands out from behind his back, revealing a small, slightly drooping sunflower in a clay pot. She watched silently as he held it out to her. "Don't answer now," he said, gaining confidence as he went along. "Just think about it, okay?" He blew out one final, exuberant breath, and was gone as quickly as he'd shown up.

Clarke remained in front of her open door for what felt like several minutes, disbelief effectively immobilizing her.

Not only had her ex shown up out of nowhere wanting to get back together, but the gift he had presented her with during his proposal of reconciliation was something she was aggravatingly allergic to. She could almost feel the pollen agitating her immune system the longer she held onto the thing.

Clarke held the sunflower at arm's length as she heaved a deep sigh and walked it out to the trash can in her dormitory's common room.


	3. Chapter 3

Keep Your Head Still, I'll Be Your Thrill  
Chapter 3: Say It Ain't So

Clarke rubbed her eyes in frustration as she attempted, for what felt like the fifteenth time, to take notes from the assigned readings for her philosophy seminar. The library was relatively empty, as it was a Friday afternoon. Clarke desperately wanted to follow her fellow students' lead and abandon her assignments as well, but she knew that with all of the work for her other classes she'd let pile up over the course of the week, if she didn't at least make an attempt at the articles her professor had assigned, she would fall behind in the blink of an eye.

She turned to Raven, who was also in the class and was quickly becoming one of her favorite people to hang around and complain about homework with. Raven was the kind of person who was blatantly smart in certain subjects, but when faced with a topic that didn't fall under her area of expertise or didn't interest her, immediately looked for someone to bitch about it to. Philosophy, Clarke learned early on, was not a subject that Raven was an expert in or cared about even a little bit.

Clarke snapped the top onto her highlighter and dropped it on her notebook with an exasperated flourish. She slumped over the table, resting her cheek on one of her multiple open textbooks, and sighed dejectedly in the direction of her companion.

"I don't get this stuff at all. Do you get any of this?" she asked, gesturing to the various books and handouts scattered around her.

Raven, who had been typing rapidly on her laptop since they had arrived at the library, didn't look up from her screen when she answered. "What that philosophy shit? Dude, I gave up on that like an hour ago."

Clarke looked at her new friend in amusement. "Raven, we only got here an hour ago."

Raven adopted a self-satisfied smirk as she continued tapping away at her keyboard. "Okay, then I gave up on it 59 minutes ago." She shook her head, pretending that Clarke's skepticism was unreasonable.

Clarke rolled her eyes even as she suppressed a chuckle. "So what are you typing over there if you're not taking notes, then?"

"Texting Octavia. She really wants to go to this party tonight. She's trying to convince me to come and rope you in for good measure."

Clarke bit the tip of her tongue as she considered the proposition. It wasn't like any of the three of them didn't like parties, but if Octavia had to work to convince Raven, then there was definitely a factor at play that would deter her and Clarke from wanting to go.

Clarke's eyes narrowed as she asked, "Who's hosting?"

The corners of Raven's mouth tilted downward in a brief, exaggerated frown. "It's another of her brother's frat parties. Octavia only wants us to come to distract Bellamy so she can make her move on what's his name without any… how did she put it?" She scanned her screen for the exact wording. "Ah, here it is, without any 'annoying older brotherly interference.' Her words."

Clarke stifled her laughter, for some reason tickled by Octavia's choice of words and Raven's refusal to let her casual demeanor slip even to acknowledge that she knows the name of the guy her friend was interested in. "What's his name being Lincoln? He's been following her around like a puppy since the first party of the year, why does she need to 'make a move?'"

Raven laughed along with her, drawing the eyes of the few people at the surrounding tables who were actually studying. "I don't know any better than you do, Griffin. Just telling you what she told me."

Clarke considered the proposition. "I don't know… Are you going?"

Raven shrugged as she lifted her arms to link her hands behind her head. She leaned back in her chair, tipping it backward onto two legs. "I guess. I mean, frat party equals free booze so… I don't know who we're kidding here, you know free drinks trumps shitty boys."

Clarke made a face. "But frat bros are so, just, ugh, you know?"

"Well duh. But putting them in their place and taking over their pong games and dance floors is half the fun of a party. Plus, every time they throw down, they name the person who wins the most rounds of pong that night's 'Commander,' and I am so gunning for that title." Raven spread her hands as though that had closed the case.

Clarke puffed her cheeks out as it became clear that Raven wasn't going to concede. She rolled her head around in a circle as Raven waggled her eyebrows, not wanting to be the one to give in so easily but knowing that of the two of them, Raven would always hold out just a little longer.

Clarke threw her hands up, signalling defeat. "Alright, alright. I guess we're going to the party."

...

True to her word, Raven had disappeared almost immediately to "hit the little girls' room" and her voice could be heard periodically from the kitchen, where a beer pong tournament was underway.

The house was as dark and as loud as ever. Octavia, Clarke, and Raven had arrived together, three, four, and five hard ciders deep respectively. Bellamy was manning the keg, so they killed two birds with one stone when the three of them approached him, each got a beer, and Clarke launched into a conversation to give Octavia the opportunity to slip away and find Lincoln. Raven stuck around just long enough to scan the first floor for the location of the drinking games tables and quietly split off to pursue them.

Clarke leaned heavily against the wall, a solid buzz keeping her happy despite her roommate's brother not picking up on the fact that she had no interest in him whatsoever. She swirled her beer lazily, willing the foam in her cup to dissipate.

Bellamy, who was far drunker than she was, sat on top of the keg with the tap between his legs. Clarke suspected it was because he couldn't stand up without falling over. He was droning on about how cool it was to live in a party house and be in a fraternity, pausing every so often to squirt beer into his mouth directly from the keg.

Clarke turned a yawn into what she hoped looked like an enthusiastic nod as Bellamy shifted into a story about the last party they'd hosted, at which his friend Murphy had done a keg stand that lasted two full minutes.

Octavia and Lincoln had vanished since the last time Clarke had looked around the room, so as she took another swig from the cup that Bellamy had just refilled for the second time, she searched frantically for an excuse to leave his company.

"I'm going to go look for Raven," was poised on her lips, when the front door opened, releasing some of the hot air that had been trapped inside the house and marking the entrance of one Finn Collins.

Clarke whirled around and was suddenly incredibly interested in whatever it was Bellamy was talking about. She took a step closer to him and placed her free hand on his shoulder. Half interrupting him, she laughed raucously, a little too loudly and said, "Wow, that is so…" she struggled to remember what the topic of conversation was, "cool?"

Emboldened by her reaction, Bellamy let his gaze dip to her chest as he placed a hand on her waist. "You like that, Princess, let me tell you about the time…" Clarke tuned out again as she glanced over her shoulder. Finn, who had clearly been watching her actions, averted his gaze and pushed through the crowd into another room.

Clarke turned back to Bellamy, whose eyes were hooded with intoxication and hand was slowly working its way from her hip to her ass. She plucked his hand from her body, held it out at arm's length, and dropped it back in his own lap with a stern look.

"Listen dude," she said warningly over the music that continued to blare throughout the house, "you're hot and everything, but I just needed to look like I was into you so my ex wouldn't come over here and try to talk to me. Thanks for the beer though."

Bellamy stood up from his perch on the keg, swaying slightly, but managing to remain upright with a misguided grin. "All I heard from that was that you think I'm hot."

Clarke's mouth hung open just a bit. She hadn't been lying, the guy was very attractive, but there was something inside her that made Clarke push back on his advances. Whether it was because it would be too weird to hook up with her roommate-turned-close-friend's brother or something else, she was too drunk to decipher at that time.

"You are, objectively, yeah, but," she scrambled for a way out and settled on a half-truth, "I'm gay. Bye!"

She turned and snaked her way through enough people that he couldn't easily follow, though it was unclear if he would try. When she looked back at him, he was watching her with confusion and disappointment all over his face.

Clarke almost felt bad for deserting him so suddenly, until he looked as if he was going to follow after her, at which point she knew she needed a scapegoat.

A familiar face appeared, and Clarke had never felt so happy to see a person in her whole life.

"Lexa!" She ran up and grabbed her new friend by the elbow.

Locking eyes with Bellamy, she gestured to Lexa, linking their arms. She gave Bellamy her best attempt at an apologetic expression, then dragged the girl out of his line of vision. There was a bathroom located immediately outside the room they had been in, and she slipped inside, pulling Lexa in behind her.

Clarke leaned over the sink, drunkenness making it difficult for her to focus as she regarded Lexa, who was finishing off a bottle of wine, in the mirror. The brunette's eyebrows were raised, still surprised at having been dragged into the frat house's disgusting restroom. "Um. Hello, Clarke."

A short glance at her own reflection showed that Clarke's face had flushed in tandem with the sound of Lexa's voice, but that she chalked up to the alcohol. She sighed and dropped her head before she turned around. "I'm so sorry, Lexa. You're the second person tonight I've pretended to be interested in to get someone else off my back."

Lexa smirked as she staggered a couple of steps closer to Clarke. "Well hey, if you really want to give them a show, I'm your girl." By the smugness on her face, it was apparent that Lexa thought she was moving and speaking with some degree of swagger. Her voice dropped to the closest thing she could get to a whisper in her inebriated state when she went on. "You know I played like five games of pong in a row earlier. I'm pretty sure these guys think I'm their Commander now." She nodded, half to herself and half to Clarke, as if this bit of information was something to be very impressed by.

In response, Clarke simply raised her eyebrows and did her best not to giggle. In the enclosed space, her heart rate had increased, and she had grown inexplicably anxious, so she decided it was better if she didn't speak.

After a prolonged beat of silence, Lexa understood Clarke's expression and, in all of her non-sober glory, comically facepalmed in embarrassment. "Sorry, um. I am realizing now as we stand here in this small bathroom that even if we were to, uh, put on a show, the whole being in the small bathroom thing means no one would see that show. Also I'm very drunk and when I am drunk my filter goes away and obviously you're," she paused to hiccup, "very pretty but we are new friends and that is the more important thing so we should pretend that I didn't say that."

Clarke shook her head, immensely entertained by her friend's drunken speech. She smiled at Lexa, more flattered than anything. "Consider it forgotten."

She watched as Lexa's shoulders dropped in relief. Somehow, Clarke knew that forgetting the moment that had just transpired was likely easier said than done.

She surveyed Lexa's face as the brunette took another gulp of her, by then nearly empty, wine bottle. Clarke looked on as the girl's eyes closed gracefully when the liquid hit her lips, noticed the way her deft fingers wrapped elegantly around the bottle's neck.

Clarke blinked herself out of her observatory reverie.

"So!" she said with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, "Want to head back out there? I think the coast is probably clear of Bellamy - I'm sure he's latched on to some other unfortunate soul by now." She eased her tone, not wanting to scare Lexa off. "Plus, your wine is gone. I'll get you another drink, if you want."

Lexa's eyes twinkled as she tipped her head back to drain the literal last drops from her bottle before she nodded in agreement.

Clarke chuckled, reaching for the doorknob. "I think I spotted a bottle of rum on the mantle out there, if we can snag some soda or something from the kitchen we're in business."

Clarke almost felt compelled to take Lexa's hand, but stopped in her tracks when the door swung open to reveal Finn, who had clearly been waiting on the other side. He must have been leaning against the door itself, as he started to fall inside the room for a second before he caught himself.

"Hey, Clarke," he said, running a somewhat embarrassed hand through his shaggy hair. "I, uh, thought I saw you come in here. Can we talk?"

Clarke batted her eyes as panic rose in her chest. Whatever he had to say to her, she was too drunk to deal with and probably didn't want to hear even if she were sober.

Lexa shuffled her feet beside her, and Clarke suddenly, for some reason, felt very much in the middle of the two. She glanced back and forth between Finn's beseeching look and Lexa's subtle avoidance of eye contact.

Clarke's body was hot, and this time she was sure that it wasn't just from the alcohol. She watched Finn's hand started to reach out for her, seemingly in slow motion, and all she knew was that the last thing she wanted in the world was to be touched by him in that moment.

Before she knew what she was doing, Clarke grabbed ahold of Lexa's face with both hands and pressed their lips together with a deep inhale. Lexa stumbled backward at the force of the kiss, but kept their mouths connected. When her surprise subsided, Lexa brought her hands up to rest at the small of Clarke's back, gently pulling her body into her own.

After what might or might not have been a very long moment, Clarke pulled out of the kiss with a soft pop. Lexa's eyes remained closed for several seconds and a small grin lingered in her expression when she breathed, "Shit."

Clarke's breathing was still heavy. Her head whipped toward Finn at the sound of his voice when he also gruffly uttered the word, "Shit," before he stormed away.

Clarke, hands still cupping Lexa's cheeks, watched him go, conflicted heart beating angrily along to the music thrumming through the walls. "Shit."


	4. Chapter 4

Keep Your Head Still, I'll Be Your Thrill

Chapter 4: I Will Not Go

Clarke watched Finn storm out of the bathroom, her heartbeat reverberating against her ribs with some combination of confusion, excitement, and guilt. Her lips were still tingling from the force with which she had pressed them to Lexa's. As she took notice of this, she also became aware of the fact their bodies were still flush against each other. She cleared her throat awkwardly and took half a step back.

Over the weeks since their almost-kiss when they first met, Clarke and Lexa had become good friends. They laughed about their first interaction every now and then. It seemed ridiculous, now. Or, maybe not so much ridiculous as… irrational. It wasn't that Lexa wasn't attractive. She was beautiful, that was just objective fact. But Clarke and Lexa were real friends now. Even if her lips were tingling, Finn had clearly been on the other side of the bathroom's threshold, and she had clearly only gone in for the kiss to spite him. It didn't matter that their lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle, or that Lexa's hands had naturally found a place at Clarke's waist, or that even as she thought about it after the fact Clarke unconsciously breathed in sharply through her nose.

Lexa looked at her with hooded eyes, appearing at the same time even drunker than before and completely sober.

Clarke licked her lips with a dry tongue, suddenly very aware of the dehydrating effects of alcohol.

With a twirl of her hand in Finn's direction, Lexa said, casting her eyes downward, "You should probably go deal with that… situation."

Clarke searched desperately for something to say to Lexa. Her head was swimming. Even in her mind, words were jumbled and not coming together in ways that made any sense, which made finding the right ones to voice aloud a nearly impossible task.

She didn't know why she felt the urge to stay, but she was unable to come up with any reason to justify it, so with a lame, "I'm sorry," she rushed back out into the thrum of the party after her ex.

As ever, the party was doused in darkness, lit only by the strobing lights from people's phones and a small disco ball in the corner. Clarke searched through the stop-motion crowd, expecting him to already be long gone. Somehow, he hadn't made it far. She only had to push her way through a few sweaty bodies before she spotted him snatch a cup from someone else's hand and drain its contents in one furious gulp before crushing the plastic in his fist and hurling it to the floor. Before he could repeat this with another unsuspecting partygoer, Clarke caught his arm.

"Hey, look-"

Finn spun toward her, flinging her hand from his elbow in the process. "Listen I know our break up sucked or whatever, but you could have just told me you didn't want to get back together. Did you really have to go and make me the guy who turned a girl gay?" His eyes were nearly bulging as he wiped his forearm uselessly at the beer that dribbled down his chin.

Clarke's eyebrows shot up, and she took a step back, taking care to keep her voice steady. "Whoa. Okay I'm going to settle this here and now. First of all: you don't _turn_ gay. Do I really have to explain that to you? What year are we in right now? Second of all: a person's whole sexuality is not defined by one kiss. Bisexuality is a real thing that exists, and you need to get that through your damn skull ASAP. Third: I'm only coming to talk to you right now to tell you that I'm done talking to you. I was conflicted for a little bit there, but after this little display, I'm definitely not going to change my mind. We broke up. You and I don't belong to each other, and I don't owe you anything. Stop looking for me at parties, even drunk me isn't interested in hooking up with you anymore." She was about to turn and have her own impressive storming off moment but paused, fueled by righteous indignation. "And really? You thought a sunflower would fix everything between us? I'm fucking allergic to pollen."

She fought her way through the crowd again, this time heading for the door that would take her out to the back patio. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she swiped at them impatiently.

Clarke stepped outside with a long sigh, grateful to be out of the thick, body heat-generated humidity that plagued the inside of the frat house. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes as she attempted to clear her head.

"If you're going to puke, I'd recommend the bushes around the side of the house." Clarke jumped and clapped a hand to her chest at the sound of the voice off to the other side of the patio.

She looked over to see Lexa seated beside a sleek looking upperclassman, who Clarke could only assume had spoken from experience, lounging in a pair of lawn chairs.

The girl, dressed in all black and motorcycle boots, held a blunt suavely in the air between two fingers of one hand and a bottle of Corona in the other. She took a drag and surveyed Clarke, as if deciding if she thought she might actually take the suggestion about the bushes.

Clarke approached Lexa and the upperclassman with what she hoped came across as confidence. "Don't think I'm quite ready for the 'boot' half of 'boot and rally' just yet. I appreciate the tip, though."

The upperclassman smirked at her approvingly, appearing fully at ease and exuding what Clarke could only call badass-ness. She passed the blunt to Lexa without breaking eye contact with Clarke. Lexa, for her part, wasn't making eye contact with either of them.

"I like your style, kid. I'm Anya."

Clarke took her hand and gave it a quick shake. "Clarke."

Lexa finally looked over toward the other two as she brought the blunt to her lips. Anya cocked her head to the side, and her smirk widened into a grin and leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees. "Clarke…" She said the name slowly, turned to look at Lexa, then turned back to face Clarke. "It is very good to meet you."

"Likewise," she said, eyeing Lexa, whose expression was indiscernible. Clarke stepped up to her. "Can I grab a drag of that?" she asked as quietly as she could over the music that still shook the house, gesturing to the blunt now settled delicately between Lexa's middle finger and pointer finger, her thumb placed nimbly on the tip of the filter.

She passed it to Clarke wordlessly. Their fingers brushed over each other for half a second.

As Clarke breathed in the weed and nicotine, Lexa regarded her silently. Clarke passed the blunt back to her, and Lexa glanced down as she tapped it to clear the ash off the end. Before she raised her gaze again, she asked in a tone that said she wasn't sure if she wanted the answer, "So… we going to talk about that kiss?"

Clarke's neck went hot. After a moment spent deciding what to say, she shrugged. "We were drunk, I made a drunk decision. What's there to talk about?"

"So it was only about your ex boy toy being outside the door when you opened it?"

Clarke shrugged again and rubbed at the back of her neck. She could feel Lexa's eyes boring into her even after she lowered her own gaze. "Why, was there more to it for you?"

Lexa smirked as she took a long drag and blew the smoke out of her nose. After a pause, she said, "Of course not."

Anya, who Clarke had almost forgotten was there, made a noise that might have been a scoff and took a swig from her beer. She plucked what was left of the blunt from Lexa's hand, took the last puff, and flicked it over the bushes before returning inside muttering something about "freshmen."

Clarke remained where she was for a moment, twisting a pink streak in her hair between her fingers. Finally she lowered herself into the recently vacated chair and looked at Lexa appraisingly. "Cool if I sit here? I'm not really feeling the vibe inside right now."

Lexa tilted her head and gave a small smile. "Fine by me."

"So," Clarke said, "how to do you two know each other?" She pointed over her shoulder to indicate she was talking about Anya. "She seems really cool." The corner of her mouth dipped unconsciously when she said this. She _did_ seem cool, but for some reason Clarke felt something akin to jealousy over how close she seemed to Lexa. Not real jealousy, of course. She and Lexa were still new-ish friends. She just wanted to get to know her better, keep spending time with her, find out if she was really as great as she had come across so far.

"Yeah, she is cool," Lexa confirmed, swiping a hand through her hair. Clarke watched the brown waves sweep over her shoulder. Lexa shot her a look that she couldn't manage to read before uttering, "She's my cousin."

"Oh!" Clarke perked up immediately. "She's your cousin, that's great!" Lexa's expression turned into one of amused confusion. "I mean, I just thought you two might have been… I mean you two looked all friendly… I wasn't sure who you were to each other." Clarke mentally kicked herself and wished she could extract her foot from its new place in her mouth.

Lexa's eyes turned toward the sky. Clarke was scanning her brain for some way to talk about how great cousins are that would still sound relatively cool when Lexa's hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. "I just saw a shooting star!" Lexa exclaimed, eyes sparkling.

Clarke scanned the sky, the ghost of a smile on her lips. Lexa's hand was still on her arm, and she didn't dare draw attention to it. She knew she had missed the shooting star, but the clear night sky was a comforting presence nonetheless. She had always felt a sort of peace when she thought about space. Its vastness and complexity was beyond comprehension, she knew, but somehow it was reassuring to acknowledge it and the microscopic place within it that she occupied.

"Do you ever wonder what it's like up there?" Clarke heard herself asking, eyes still wandering the expanse of twinkling sky she could see from where she sat.

Several moments passed without a response. Clarke finally brought her gaze back down to Earth and looked over to the girl beside her. Lexa was watching her calmly, though her eyes seemed ablaze with an intensity Clarke couldn't name.

They both held eye contact for what could have been hours, but was likely only a matter of seconds.

Just as Clarke made the decision to break the silence and ask what Lexa was thinking, she heard the music inside the house change. Even through the walls, the intro to "Mr. Brightside" was unmistakable. Clarke's motivation for speaking switched gears.

"I love this song! Come on, we have to go dance to this." She practically vaulted out of her chair, grabbed Lexa's hand, and pulled her back inside.

Lexa in tow, Clarke shoved her way through the amassed bodies that were drunkenly jumping, thrusting, and shouting along to the music, until they were immersed in the chaos near the enormous speakers, pausing to snatch a pair of jell-O shots from a table they passed.

Without missing a beat, Clarke joined in, singing along at the top of her lungs and hopping up and down in sync with the song. Lexa took a few seconds to take in the sudden shift in Clarke's demeanor, laughing uncontrollably at how passionately she was enjoying the song, then followed suit with equal enthusiasm.

The two bounced to the music, their hands intermittently flung into the air, singing with too much fervor to possibly be on pitch, and for those couple of minutes, neither of them had a care in the world.

By the time the song ended, Clarke and Lexa were as sweaty and happy as the rest of the party's attendees. They were breathing hard and flushed in the cheeks. Clarke slung an arm around Lexa's shoulders as they made their way through the crowd again, hoping to escape the speakers that had switched back to a rap song that was far less conducive to dancing.

Clarke was about to suggest they find another round of drinks, when Octavia and Raven rounded the corner, followed closely by Lincoln, carrying a ski with shot glasses glued to it. Lincoln, somewhat sheepishly, raised a handle of tequila above his head as Octavia shouted over the noise of the party, "Yo, who wants to do a shotski?"

Clarke raised an eyebrow to Lexa. When she received another smirk and nod in response, the two raced toward the trio with the winter sports equipment. The two raised their hands in unison.

With an approving smile, Raven high-fived both of them, and the four girls lined up along the ski as Lincoln poured the shots.

"Here goes nothing." Clarke smiled at her friends as they lifted the ski carefully so that they could each put their lips to the brim of their shot glasses.

Raven looked at Octavia, Clarke, and Lexa in turn, then counted down. "Three… two… one!"

They tipped the ski and drank their shots. Octavia spluttered a little and ended up spraying the other three with a light, sticky tequila mist. All four of them, plus Lincoln, laughed good naturedly. To be fair, no one had provided a chaser, and the tequila was certainly not top quality.

Lexa's eyes watered, though she managed to swallow her whole shot.

Raven took it like a champ, without so much a wince.

Clarke looked back at her shot glass with a small cough only to find that she had only managed to drink about half of it. To make up for it, she pulled the handle from Lincoln's grasp, slowly and gently, her drunk mind believing that he wouldn't even notice. She took a large swig, then eased it back into his hand in slow-motion. All of her friends laughed, and Lincoln rolled his eyes even as a chuckle made its way out of his mouth. Lexa used her thumb to wipe a small drop of tequila from her bottom lip.

...

The next thing Clarke knew, she was waking up the following morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Keep Your Head Still, I'll Be Your Thrill

Chapter 5: Turn the Lights Off

Clarke came to slowly, the annoyance of sun hitting her face through the window increasing moment by moment. With a groan, she rolled away from the source of the light bombarding her eyes - slowly, so as not to aggravate the nausea that made itself known in her gut as she moved. She pushed her face further into her pillow and imagined its surface conforming to the shape of her exaggerated frown. This hangover was a monster already.

She had never been so thirsty in her life. With her eyes still firmly shut, stubborn against the daylight, Clarke reached a hand over the side of her bed to feel around for her water bottle.

But rather than the cool, plastic form of the bottle, her hand was met with something warm and soft. Something that grunted softly, then shifted beneath her touch.

Clarke's brow furrowed with confusion and unease. Her body tensed, her sense of touch being the only she had employed so far in her water bottle search and having not only come up one water bottle short, but having encountered something unexpected.

She peeled her eyes open slowly. Her vision was blurry with dehydration, and it took a moment for her to adjust to the glare of natural light that seemed intent on shining directly in her face no matter which way she turned her head. Her temples pounded as she rubbed her face in attempt to clear the bleary film from her eyes.

When she finally looked down at the floor to see what unfamiliar object her wandering hand had found, she gasped in a short but sharp inhale.

Lexa lay face down on the rug that sat between Clarke and Octavia's empty bed. The strange object she had touched was Lexa's arm.

Clarke was instantly aware of the fact that she was topless and yanked her blanket up to cover herself without an ounce of grace.

What was Lexa doing on her floor? Why was Clarke half naked? The understanding that she had blacked out washed over Clarke and she looked helplessly around the room as if someone might appear and explain everything to her. Unsurprisingly, no clues materialized.

What the hell happened last night?

Clutching her blanket to her chest, Clarke stretched her leg out over the edge of the bed and poked at Lexa's shoulder with her toes. Lexa groaned and shifted slightly, but didn't open her eyes. Clarke sighed, impatient, through her nose.

She stretched her leg out again, this time giving Lexa's shoulder a hard shove with the ball of her foot. "Wake up!"

The shrill urgency in Clarke's voice seemed to do the trick, as Lexa not only roused, but shot up to a standing position, eyes wide and a little bit bloodshot, short-sleeved oxford done up only halfway. "Why are we screaming?"

"Why were you on my floor?"

"What time is it?"

"Why am I shirtless?"

"Do you see my phone anywhere?"

"Why aren't you answering my questions?"

"Why aren't you answering mine?"

Lexa rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms. As Clarke's tone had grown more urgent with each question she asked, Lexa's had remained groggy and unworried.

Eyeing Lexa with suspicion, Clarke hiked her blanket up further over her chest and crossed the room, stepping as lightly as her hangover would allow over random stacks of books and piles of clothes, to pull a clean shirt from the open drawer in her dresser. Once she was safely facing the wall, she allowed the blanket to drop to the floor with a swish and swiftly pulled the t-shirt over her head. She faced Lexa again only after flipping her hair out from the inside of her collar and planting her hands firmly on her hips. In that time, Lexa had re-buttoned her shirt to the collar and located her phone.

"I'm serious, Lexa. What the hell happened last night? Did we…?" She let herself trail off. The blank void that was the end of her night had her reeling, and the not knowing wouldn't allow her to finish whatever she had begun to say.

Lexa's mouth fell open slightly. "You don't remember." Her voice came out so soft, it was barely audible. Clarke was unable to discern what the vagueness she was presented with indicated. Her heart boomed in her chest at the thought that Lexa's words might mean that she was not remembering something that did happen. No, she would remember, wouldn't she? God, she hoped she would remember if she and Lexa hooked up. Not that she hoped she and Lexa would hook up. Necessarily. God, what the hell happened last night?

Lexa's expression seemed as though it couldn't settle on which emotion it was experiencing or trying to convey. After a short deliberation, it came up deliberately neutral. Clarke thought she might have seen the beginnings of a smirk emerging on Lexa's face, but it was interrupted by her dorm room door swinging open directly into Clarke's elbow.

"Ow, fuck!" Clarke shook her arm out, willing the throbbing in her funny bone to ebb quickly.

Octavia entered the room and gently closed the door behind her. She offered a short but sincere apology, then planted a kiss on the offending injury.

Clarke, frown still in place and hands still on hips, turned to her. "And just where have you been, young lady?"

Octavia laughed and put on a fake little girl voice. "I'm real sorry, mom, we just lost track of time, honest!"

Continuing the charade, Clarke wagged a finger comically. "Am I to understand that by _we_ you mean you were with a _boy_?"

Octavia managed to pretend to look guilty for half a second before her smile practically split her face in half. She bounced over to Clarke and swung her around in excitement. In one breath, she said, "I _was_ with a boy I spent the night with Lincoln and he finally asked me to be his girlfriend so we're officially dating!"

Laughter burst from Clarke's mouth as she gave Octavia a quick hug, genuinely glad for her friend. "That's awesome, O, I'm so happy for you!"

"Congrats," Lexa said with a small nod and a grin.

Octavia, who hadn't noticed that Lexa was there, thanked them both with a chuckle. After a moment in which she realized that Clarke and Lexa were both visibly hungover, she not-so-subtly peered over at her line of shoes. Clarke shot her a questioning look, to which she replied, "Just checking for puke," glancing at Lexa with a faux stern demeanor.

Lexa gave a quiet laugh, allowing the joke at her expense. "Alright, I deserve that." Turning to Clarke, she said coolly, "Now if you'll both excuse me, I'm going to head out." She exited the room with a purposely coy wink.

She was halfway down the hall by the time Clarke caught up to her, hopping awkwardly as she struggled to pull her shoes on and jog down the hallway at the same time. "Hey, hold on a second!"

Lexa had to stop herself from giggling as she pretended to be surprised to see her. "Oh, Clarke, what can I do for you?"

Clarke rolled her eyes, half amused, half annoyed. "Oh cut the crap, Lexa. You can't just walk off and leave me not knowing what the deal with last night was."

Lexa regarded her as they exited the dorm building. Her face turning more serious, she turned to face Clarke fully. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about."

…

Clarke, as it turned out, was not so easily pacified. She spent her day following Lexa around campus, prodding, begging, and pestering Lexa in hopes of extracting some information about the night before. She tagged along when Lexa went to the dining hall, when she went back to her own dorm to collect her books, and trailed behind her all the way to the library.

For hours they sat across from each other, Lexa diligently working on her assignments, Clarke going back and forth between silently glaring at Lexa over the top of a textbook and hissing questions at a whisper. They were in the library after all.

She did her best to time her interrogation, hoping to catch Lexa off-guard and elicit some answers that would fill in the blank her memory had left, but she was no match for Lexa's newly adopted code of silence.

"Tell me what happened," Clarke whispered aggressively.

"Why would I do that when not knowing has made you such pleasant company today?" Lexa deadpanned without looking up from her reading.

Around midnight, Lexa finally packed up her things to leave the library. She walked toward the exit as if Clarke weren't stalking behind her and staring daggers into the back of her head.

As she turned to make her way back to her room, which was in the opposite direction of Clarke's dorm, Clarke grabbed her by the elbow. She swung around casually.

Clarke huffed, stealing herself for another attempt. Despite her irritation, she couldn't help but admire the twinkle she found in Lexa's gaze.

Before she could say anything, Lexa held up a hand. The twinkle in her eye grew. "Listen Clarke, as much fun as I've had spending time with you today, I have to go to bed. We have class in the morning." With a waggle of her fingers, she strode away.

…

In their philosophy seminar, Clarke and Lexa sat side by side sporting matching expressions of boredom. Their professor had a way of speaking that seemed to drone in the background, regardless of whether or not anyone else was making noise. Clarke's notebook lay open on her desk and contained no actual notes. Instead, the page it was open to was covered in doodles, mostly caricatures of her classmates.

It had become a sort of mini tradition for her to draw silly pictures of Lexa when she wasn't looking, but this time Clarke intentionally filled the page with images of anyone in the room who wasn't Lexa.

Every now and then, Clarke could feel Lexa's eyes wander toward her and the back of her neck grew inexplicably warm.

With just a few minutes left in the class, Clarke began dozing in her chair until Raven, who was seated to her other side, gave her a sharp nudge. Clarke jolted into alertness and gave Raven a miffed look.

Before she could voice her irritation at having been woken, Lexa leaned over and explained, "The professor is about to talk about the midterm paper."

Clarke gave a silent "Oh," then turned back to Raven and put on an apologetic smile.

At the front of the room, their professor cleared his throat and turned to the chalkboard. In tall, loopy handwriting, he wrote in all-caps the word, "TRUTH."

"Truth, ladies and gentlepeople. That is the topic for your midterm paper," he monotoned. "You can write about whatever you like, pertaining to the idea of truth, using at least three of your assigned readings as references."

Clarke felt a smirk emerge on her lips. She thrust her hand into the air and looked pointedly at Lexa when she was called on. Her eyes remained on Lexa's face even as she directed her question to the professor. "Yes, would it be appropriate to write on the idea of withholding information?" She raised a smug eyebrow as Lexa paled and shook her head with an exasperated upturn of the lips.

The professor scratched his chin and shrugged. "As long as you can apply the ideas we've been discussing in class."

Clarke leaned back in her chair, feeling self-satisfied. Lexa rubbed her face with both hands. Clarke couldn't help but notice that her cheeks had suddenly become flushed.

Once the class ended, Lexa pulled Clarke aside, gesturing to Raven that they would catch up for lunch in a minute. Clarke raised her eyebrows expectantly, leaning back against her desk with her arms crossed.

Lexa rolled her eyes, adjusted her backpack on her shoulders, and sighed. "Look, since you're so desperate to know, I'll tell you this: I wouldn't call me going home yesterday morning a walk of shame."

Clarke's mouth dropped open as Lexa popped one of her shoulders up in a mockery of flirtatiousness and walked away, leaving Clarke outside the classroom stunned and speechless.


	6. Chapter 6

Keep Your Head Still, I'll Be Your Thrill

Chapter 6: Carry Me Home

 _The night of the party:_

 _If they weren't loosened up before, the shotski and subsequent swigs of liquor certainly did the trick. The music that sent vibrations through the floors of the frat house seemed to thrum as well in Clarke's bones. She and her friends gravitated to the dance floor that was the living room, and created their own space in the center of all the bumping and swaying bodies around them._

 _Clarke filled herself with the energy that surrounded her, made it her own, and gave it right back. Raven had taken over the aux cord and played a party playlist that was filled with jam after jam. Clarke could feel herself becoming the basic drunk girl who shouted "woo!" as she recognized each song when it started playing, but she couldn't find it within herself to care. She was happy to let herself be carefree and enjoy herself._

 _She moved and swung her hips to the music. Thanks to the alcohol, Clarke was only semi-aware of her body, but she became very aware of Lexa's as she danced closer and closer. Before she knew it, their bodies were flush against each other. Clarke's hands moved to Lexa's hips of their own accord. Lexa's back was to her, but she could feel every inch of her as she bounced to the beat._

 _There was no way to know whether the heat that began to boil deep in her gut was coming from the high temperature within the house or from something else._

 _She swallowed hard when Lexa turned in her arms and dropped a hand onto Clarke's shoulder. Clarke's pulse picked up so hard and fast, she was a little surprised she couldn't actually see it thumping beneath her skin. Lexa's eyes seemed like they were burning into her._

 _She dropped her gaze to Lexa's lips for half a second._

 _Clarke felt herself starting to lean forward, but she jumped backward in surprise when red and blue lights flashed through the window._

 _The word "cops" flew around the room at various volumes as the music was cut off and people became aware of the siren sounding outside._

 _In the distance, Clarke saw Bellamy fumble his way to the front door, shouting, "Shut up!" intermittently at the party goers who themselves were still drunkenly yelling at Raven to turn the music back on. Clarke was suddenly extremely aware of the fact that she was extremely drunk and extremely not twenty-one._

 _Her eyes shot in the direction of the back door, and the motion caused her to stumble._

 _A hand caught the small of her back and steadied her. Lexa's mouth appeared by her ear to ask, "You okay?"_

 _Clarke suppressed a shiver and, not trusting herself to speak, simply nodded._

 _People milled about, wondering in the backs of their minds whether or not they were all about to get arrested. Clarke's palms grew sweaty at Lexa's continued proximity. She spotted an unopened beer on top of the speaker that sat nearby. She grabbed it and chugged the whole thing in what must have been record time._

 _After a few moments, Bellamy reemerged and raised his hands to shush the low chatter that had started back up in his absence. "Alright, party people! Talked to the cops, an' we're not in trouble but you all have to leave. Can't stay here, but you gotta go home... or... whatever the saying is."_

 _Groans erupted as the masses shuffled toward the exit. Clarke followed suit, jostled here and there by the numerous people all attempting to squeeze through the door at once._

 _When she made it outside, it registered that Clarke had lost her friends in the crowd. She searched for their faces, turning herself only twice around in circles before the movement made her dizzy._

 _An arm hooked around her waist, and Clarke swiveled to find Lexa, who seemed to be struggling to open her eyes all the way but was much steadier on her feet than Clarke._

" _I am… very drunk."_

" _I am very also drunk."_

 _They started walking away from the fraternity, and Clarke gave one of the police officers by the curb an exaggerated salute._

 _They were halfway across campus when Clarke remembered something._

" _Hey. You live the other way."_

 _Lexa shrugged as they both half-tripped over an uneven square in the sidewalk. "Gotta make sure you get back safe. You don't seem like you goin' make it on your own."_

 _Clarke felt for a second like she should have been offended, but she knew it was true, so she just chuckled._

 _When they finally reached Clarke's room, the lights were off and there was no one inside. Clarke entered without hesitation, kicking the belongings she had left scattered on the floor out of the way. Behind her, Lexa flicked the light on and, after a moment, closed the door behind her._

" _Octavia isn't here," Lexa noted matter of factly._

 _Clarke turned back to her, one arm stuck in the sleeve of her jacket. "I think she was goin' to Lincoln's fer the night." Eventually she freed herself from her jacket and flung it onto the ground before beginning to strip off her other clothes to prepare to crawl into bed, somehow unconcerned with Lexa's presence._

…

Clarke's foot tapped anxiously against her bed. She and Octavia were in their room, each on her respective bed, facing each other and making half-hearted attempts at tossing gummies into each other's mouths.

"I don't know, I barely even remember getting back to the room that night. When I woke up it looked like she just, you know, fell out of bed or something."

Octavia threw a gummy that sailed over Clarke's head, bounced off the wall, and fell noiselessly behind her desk. Octavia's face crinkled as she cocked her head to the side. "I feel like her being on your floor doesn't necessarily mean anything though. Didn't you say she was still fully dressed and everything?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't wearing a shirt and my pants were unzipped."

Clarke popped a gummy into her own mouth, then lobbed one back at her roommate. Octavia made a lunge for it, but it fell short and rolled under her bed. She shook her head. "I'm not buying. Half the time I see you, you're at least partially naked."

Clarke pelted another gummy at Octavia, hitting her squarely in the forehead. "That's an exaggeration!"

Octavia retrieved the gummy from where it came to rest in the folds of her blanket and shot it right back. "Clarke, you're literally not wearing pants right now."

Clarke glanced down and sighed at her clearly exposed polka dot panties. "Okay, point taken. But still!" She leaned back against the wall and dug through her bag of gummies in search of a strawberry flavored one. "I remember flashes of her walking me home, being really nice, and from the millisecond of being back here that I can remember, I wasn't exactly trying to make her leave." Unable to single a strawberry out, she took a handful of various fruit flavors and shoved them all in her mouth. Through her mouthful of gummies, Clarke groaned. "Why won't she just tell me what happened? This is torture. It's like… like, memory waterboarding."

Octavia choked on her own handful of gummies as she struggled not to spit her half-chewed snack across the room. She swallowed with difficulty before she managed to respond. "Okay, _that's_ an exaggeration."

Clarke tossed her last gummy over the gap between their beds, and for once, Octavia caught it deftly on her tongue. With a quirk of her eyebrows, she twirled her hands in a little bow.

"Sounds like you're just going to have to find her and try again to make her tell you."

…

When Clarke found Lexa, she was on the quad, throwing a frisbee with Lincoln. The sun was out, glancing off the plastic surface of the disc as it passed through the occassional shadows cast by the trees. Clarke stormed toward her, still fired up from her conversation with Octavia.

Lexa smirked when she spotted her coming. The expression on her face told Clarke without a doubt that she knew exactly why Clarke was stomping over the grass with such a determined look. It also told her that she was not going to make it easy for her.

"Lexa, I-"

"Good afternoon, Clarke. Beautiful day out, isn't it?" She sent Lincoln running with a long throw, eyes following him as he made the catch.

Clarke huffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, lovely, whatever. Look-"

"You're here to talk to me about the other night." She hopped up to catch the frisbee as it soared just past Clarke's head. She sent the disc flying back toward Lincoln with a flick of her wrist. "I take it you still don't remember?"

Clarke crossed her arms indignantly.

Lexa shook her head in amusement. "Look, I told you," she put a hand on Clarke's shoulder, "you have nothing to worry about." Then she twirled a strand of Clarke's hair with mirth and added, "It was a good night."

Clarke, frustrated, swiped her hand away. A flying object hurtling in her general direction gave her an idea.

She snagged the frisbee from the air before Lexa could get to it. In the distance, Lincoln raised his arms in question.

"That's it," Clarke declared, pointing at Lexa with the disc. "I'm holding this thing hostage until you give me some answers." She shoved the frisbee up inside her shirt before Lexa could move to snatch it back.

When it was clear that Clarke would not concede, Lexa sighed. "Okay, okay, fine. I'll fill in your gaps."

…

 _Lexa's eyes were suddenly very wide as Clarke let her bra drop to the floor. Even with the blonde facing away from her, the fact that she was topless, and right there, and… unzipping her pants. She was unzipping her pants._

 _Lexa muttered, out loud, "Oh my god," before she could stop herself._

 _Clarke turned toward her in a long sway-turned-spin. "You say something?"_

 _Lexa locked her eyes on the wall above Clarke's head. "Um… Nope."_

" _Oh." Clarke slumped into a sitting position on the edge of her bed._

 _She stood, frozen, in the middle of the room. Lexa could tell she was still drunk, but she was aware enough to be entirely unsure of what to do with herself._

 _After a drawn out moment, she cleared her throat. "I should probably, uh, go."_

 _As she took a step back toward the door, Clarke lunged forward, presumably reaching for Lexa's hand, but miscalculated and ended up grabbing Lexa's leg._

 _Lexa, thrown off her already precarious balance, fell clumsily to the floor. She giggled at herself and said into the rug, "I don't think I can get back up."_

 _Clarke, whose momentum carried her back to her bed, giggled along with her. Her face was flush against the mattress, slightly obscuring her voice when she mumbled, "You can stay with me babe, got plenty of room." She patted the bed but made no move to make room beside her on the little twin provided by the college._

 _Within minutes, both of the girls were passed out where they were._

…

"Why? Were you hoping something more exciting happened?"


End file.
